I'm Not Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf
by iWannaPetYourPetPeacock
Summary: I've got a great family, my boyfriend and I are in love, and I've been accepted to my dream college. Life is good. Then all of a sudden some guy barges into my life, setting flame to everything I thought I knew. AU/No-Magic/Werewolf/Slash TR/HP
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimers**: Harry Potter isn't mine *flings self off cliff*

**Pairings**: Cedric Diggory/Harry Potter, eventual (maybe ^_^) Tom Riddle/Harry Potter

**Warnings**: Adult themes, violence, language, and slashly goodness.

**Summary**: AU/No-Magic/Werewolf/Slash TR/HP Everything was going great. I've got a great family, my boyfriend and I are in love, and I've been accepted to my dream college. Then all of a sudden some guy barges into my life, setting flame to everything I thought I knew.

X

**Chapter One:** _In Which, I Dub Thee…Cream Poof._

I'm going to give you the facts. As in no room for discussion or debate: it is what it is. There is no better way to start off your morning. Trust me; I've been starting mine here for the last three years of my life.

Getting up at the butt crack of dawn is, I will admit, a very daunting task. And forget about it being a 'morning person' thing, because it really is crazy to be up so early. I swear, the only person up and functioning properly before the birds even start singing, is God. But I guess God was lonely because He gave this woman named Molly Weasley the wicked idea to make this little bakery called Slice of Heaven.

See, I work there. Yea, I'm sure you're thinking it's pretty gay for an eighteen year old, high school senior to be working at a bakery. I've heard all the jokes before; my current nickname at school is Cream 'Poof.' But guess what…I am gay. So no offence taken! Anyway, back to Molly.

She is the epitome of goodness and I promise you'll never find another woman like her. Well, besides your own mom…if you have a good mom. But I don't, and haven't for quite some time now. See, when I was about two years old, my family and I were in a bad car crash. I was the only survivor, and after being pulled from the wreckage, patched up (I had a weird cut on my forehead in the shape of a lightning bolt) I was sent away to live with my mother's 'family.'

I put a lot of sarcastic stress on the word family when I talk about my Aunt, her husband, and their obese whale-child Dudley. Bottom line, my mother's sister is NOT what you would really consider a family. They hated me, and made sure to tell me every day of my life. My presence in their household was nothing short of a dreadful misfortune, and they made me work day till night to make up for it. I was an indentured servant, but with no possibility of ever lifting my sentence.

The earliest memories of my life were nothing short of hell. I had no idea that this wasn't what a family was supposed to be like, and for a long time….I truly believed that there was something wrong with me, and that I deserved everything I got. And by the time my cousin Dudley saw a boy kissing me in the school yard day; life got even worse.

Punishment was always severe and quick. Sometimes it was going a number of days without food, or an extra amount of chores that I couldn't possibly finish. Being locked up all day in my cupboard became popular too. Oh yea, that's where I lived. In an old creaky and spider infested cupboard underneath the stairwell. After the incident however, corporal punishment became the best way my Uncle thought he could take care of me. Nights that had once been filled with tired hand, sore knees, and/or a hungry stomach, where now filled with getting acquainted with my Uncles belt.

It seemed that everyday my perpetual hell was getting hotter and hotter. The chores, lack of food, and frequent beatings, left me very small and practically malnourished, and my lack of good social skills kept me silent at school. I went by rather unnoticed, but I liked it that way. After all, it's easier to not say anything when you have no one to talk to. But when Dudley was kicked out of boarding school, the only sanctuary I had was stolen from me. They had this sport see, which they called 'Harry Hunting,' and yours truly was the prey.

After one rather rigorous round with Dudley and his goons after school, I had an accident and slipped while running. My arm broke, and it had been the most painful thing I'd ever felt. After recess I walked back to class, determined to not anyone know what was wrong. But my teacher noticed when I raised my right hand instead of left. I was quickly rushed to the nurse, and while we awaited the ambulance that was to come, I had a breakdown.

I don't really know what happened, but I just kinda…told the nurse everything. She kept asking me questions, and I didn't know how to respond, and I'd never been good at lying, and well…I'm sure you can guess what happened. The first case of child abuse the school had ever seen. Well as you can imagine, the principal of my school didn't take kindly to that, and tried to hush up the whole affair.

I don't know why she loves pink so much, but Dolores Umbridge is the devil's overseer, and therefore her color should be red. Instead of doing what she should have done and protecting me; she blamed me for what happened. She persuaded the police to not further their investigation, and when she was certain the reputation of her precious school was secure, she turned her sights on me.

My Aunt and Uncle had to have a meeting with her. To this day, I don't know exactly what was said, but I know the after effects were horrible. For the rest of that school year, I served detention with that pink bitch. She made me carve the words 'I must not tell lies' into the back of my hand. That was the last time I attempted to tell anyone about what was happening to me for awhile. Things progressed in this same manner until the summer preceding my freshman year of high school.

Now understand, I knew nothing about my parents besides what my family told. Apparently they were nothing but drunken hipsters who couldn't hold a steady job, and as their spawn, I was certain to follow in their footsteps. Oh how right they were.

A letter came in the mail one day…addressed to me. I had never received mail before. But it came from this school, Hogwarts Schools of Arts and Sciences. Turns out, my parents _weren't_ drunken hipsters. My mother had been a great dancer, and was about to join the prestigious London Royal Dance Academy. My father was a painter. One of best, and was the youngest person who was ever invited to have a showcase at the Paris Museum of Modern Art. And I was there son… put down to attend the same school they had since my birth.

I was so excited that I didn't even care about my family's betrayal. The picture they painted of nothing parents that lived life as drifters, were to shallow in my mind to hold onto any longer. Even the strongest of lies won't prevail in the face of truth. I finally had an escape. And as crazy it was; my family was excited to. Not for the obvious joyful reasons like me being accepted to an amazing school with a full ride scholarship. No, they were more stoked about me being away for nine months out of the year. Well… that worked for me too.

So, I went to Hogwarts School of Fine and Liberal Arts. And that's when my life finally seemed to take a turn for the better. I had never thought about dancing or anything like that. But at school, it all just came so…naturally. I took after my mother. At least that's what all the professor's there told me. And it was great, for once there was something I liked to do, and fuck, I was even great at it! Dancing became my everything.

While I was there, I met my best friends Ron and Hermione. Ronald Weasley is Molly's youngest son. He got accepted to Hogwarts for his instrumental skills. Guitar, bass, drums, keyboard, classical piano; you name it, Ron knows how to play it. And if he doesn't it won't take him but about two weeks to learn. I promise he learned how to play one of those classical Japanese guitar thingys in two weeks flat. Ron is a master at everything music.

Next, is Hermione Granger. Please don't let her bushy hair fool you… she's a genius. And I mean really it; like her IQ is in the high triple digits. She's attending Hogwarts for creative writing. Although that's her focus, Mione could write anything and it would be golden. Books, screenplays, computer manual, you name it and she'll make a literary masterpiece.

We've been stuck to each other for years, and as gay it seems; they're the family I always wanted. But like any family, they aren't blind to the things that happen to their family members. It didn't take long for Hermione to get suspicious about stunted growth. And although somewhat unobservant, even Ron didn't miss the way I normally shied away from people that I didn't know. Combined with my refusal to every go back home for the Christmas break, they found me out by the spring semester of my sophomore year.

I was sixteen when they confronted me, and much like my experience with the nurse; I couldn't lie to them and everything just came out. But this time, the outcome was much better. At Hogwarts, I was surrounded by people that actually cared about me. Well, besides the Point Master Severus Snape. But that's to be expected with the history him and my father had. I certinatly don't hold it against the big gliding bat. But I had a very sturdy group of people who I found out loved me and cared for me, and were ready to assist me in any way possible.

The best possible way we all decided was emancipation. The next year I would turn seventeen, and due to the strenuous condition in which I had been living, it didn't take much more then the Headmaster of Hogwarts (Professor Dumbledore) vouching for me to have all of my parents assets given over to me before my eighteenth birthday. The process was tedious and took a lot of opening up, but with my friends behind me; I got through it alright.

The only thing that I needed was a sort of chaperone, and that's where the wonderful Molly Weasley comes in.

Although I never went to my home for the break, most of the time I spent it with the Weasley's. After meeting them my freshman year, they really took to me. And in turn, I fell I love with them. Ron's parents are everything I imagined a real family was supposed to be like. They're caring, concerned, loving and warm. I promise; I'm never happier than when I am at the Weasley household. But I was still withholding a very crucial aspect about myself back from them.

I think I've always know that I liked boys. I just didn't know there was a name for it until I got to high school. Coming out was the hardest thing I'd ever had to do. Even in today's liberal society, loving someone of the same sex is still one of the greatest taboos. And for the first time in my life, I had something that I didn't want to lose; even if that meant hiding who I really was.

It was Hermione again (of course) who figured things out first. If she wasn't so set on writing novels, I think she'd make a great detective. I had never had an actual girlfriend. The massacre of a kiss I had with this girl named Cho Chang, apparently didn't count towards anything. After that, my total lack of interest in girls was a little more…noticeable to Hermione. She waited until my junior year, when everything with the emancipation was taken care of before unloading her findings on me.

Now I'll be honest; I'm a proud gay person. Not particularly flamboyant or queenish as others. I mean, it's not like you'll see me in drag anytime soon. Well besides Halloween. But it took me awhile to get that comfortable with my sexuality. I spent a good portion of my life getting the 'freak' beaten out of me, and there are just some things that no amount of time can heal.

I was still really afraid of the Weasley's reaction. But my paranoia (although warranted) was highly misplaced, and as always, the Weasley's gave nothing less than their undying love and support. Even Ron, who generally likes to stick the safe things, didn't really flip about it. He did warn me against getting hot and heavy in his room however. And of course I've obliged since neither me nor-

"Well, lookie who I see. I swear Harry, you could set you alarm clock by that boy."

I turn away from my pound cake batter, and see a swirl of shimmering bright red hair round the corner with a saucy smile and wink on her face. Ginevra Weasley, Ron's sister and the Weasley clan's only daughter. She used to have a diehard crush on me, and I was worried that my being gay would hurt her the most. But girls are weird and to Ginny as long as another woman didn't have me…she was happy.

I laugh because I know exactly who she's talking about. The door chimes and I go back to swirling my batter masterfully, not even bothering to look up when I see the soft shadow of a person standing at the counter. It's a fun game we like to play, our morning courtship if you would.

"Excuse me?" The voice is warm, like the butter I spread on Mrs. Dolly's coffee cake every morning. In through my ears, the sound of it travels throughout my body, exiting finally when I breath out because as corny as it sounds…my man leaves me speechless.

It's always hard to keep a straight face at the beginning, but I normally try really hard, and today my practice has paid off. Although my eyes are focused on my current task, he knows he has my undivided attention.

"Can I help you…sir," I ask with a sound of vague interest in my voice. Man I'm pretty good at this! If I were any good at speaking with my mouth, I think I'd have what it takes to act. But I like speaking with my body through dance instead, so I'll leave the acting to him.

"Yes I think you can. You see, I'm looking for someone. Wild black hair, pretty green eyes. Likes to bake. Oh, and he dances too. Maybe…you've seen him?" There's a hint of teasing laughter in his voice, but he's much better than me and remains composed when I finally look him in the face.

What a nice face. I send a silent prayer to my imaginary patron god of the gays, and stare boldly into the handsome visage and warm brown eyes that stare back at me. Ah, I can see…the slight upward tilt from the side of his mouth. I knew he was laughing.

"Maybe I have, maybe I haven't." My response sounds haughty, even to my own ears.

"Well if you do, could tell him…tell him I'd really like to take him out sometime. You know just a lunch date or whatever he wants." Even though we make up a scenario like this just about every morning that my boyfriend Cedric Diggory comes to pick me up from work and drive me to school; I still marvel at how smooth he is, and my hearts beats fast like it did when he asked me out for the first time. Seems like such a long time ago when in reality, it's only been five months. September will forever be my favorite month.

He's moving closer now, leaning over the counter slowly and only stopping when the sandy brown bangs that rest on his forehead are in contact with my sooty black ones. I don't even try to fight off the involuntary desire to rub my nose against his, and I love him even more for letting me. Lord knows even after all this time I crave the simplest forms of physical contact like a crack addict.

"I'll be sure to pass on the message…and…scene." The pretend moment of destined lovers meeting for the first time is over, and we laugh to ourselves. We are so stupid. But it's a fun little thing we do all the time, and as weird as it might seem, we just can't help it. I mean come one…we're artists!

Now that I think about it, I can't even remember how we started our little morning ritual. I blame it on Cedric though; he studies theatre performance at Hogwarts so it's probably his fault.

"You ready to go yet?" He nods at the batter. Ever the considerate one, my Cedric. He knows I hate to leave things unfinished and doesn't make a fuss when I tell him I need about thirty more minutes. Mrs. Weasley comes from the back kitchen and spotting my boyfriend, doesn't waste any time swallowing him in a hug. She fusses over him (like she does just about everyone) and leads him to the back where he can wait on me. I beam at her, thankful yet again for having her as my mother figure.

Time is of the essence and although Cedric will wait on me, he really is impatient. It takes about five more minutes to finally get the pound cake batter into the right consistency before I put it the oven. Ginny is here, so I know she'll take it out when it's finished before she heads off to school as well. With a kiss to Mrs. Weasley and Ginny, and the promise that I'll be home for our weekly Friday night dinner, I grab Cedric and we head out the bakery.

In the car I pull out some butter croissants; Ced's favorite. As always, my talent with an oven is rewarded by a heavy snogging session that leaves both of us breathless. On the way to school we chitchat about the upcoming day. I have Point class with my nemesis Master Snape, rehearsal for the upcoming Graduation Showcase, and a meeting with Headmaster Dumbledore. It's a shame the day probably won't go by fast enough.

I've been looking forward to this meeting for the past month. With high school's impending end in just about two months, college has been on my mind lately. At first, I never imagined anything happening after I graduated high school…at least of me. I mean, yea I love dancing and I'm good at it, but until my parents assets were turned over to me, the idea of paying for my continued education was inconceivable. But even with the funds to pay for it, the idea of college only started to appeal to me when I learned more about my mom and her dream to attend London's Royal Academy.

The Royal Academy is one of the most prestigious ballet schools…in the world. Ranking in the top ten, people kill to even get an audition there. Ok, the killing was an exaggeration on my part, but you get what I'm saying. To know that my mother was given a full scholarship there is something that really keeps me motivated. She worked really hard for her opportunity, but died before she could see it out. And I could be presuming too much, but I feel like…it's my duty to finish what she started.

So for the past couple of months, I've been meeting with Professor Dumbledore and he's been giving me private lessons, gearing me up for the upcoming preliminary auditions. Crazy huh? That you need an audition, to make it to the _real _auditions. Blimey it's overwhelming.

Lost in a steady flow of conversation, I hardly even realized when we pulled up in front of the school…well, castle really. The place is enormous, and even though it's a high school, Hogwarts is big enough to put any university to shame.

I feel a strong warm hand grip my smaller one, and feel some of the tension I had in my shoulders disappear. Words of reassurance and comfort flood my ears as the smell of Cedric's cologne floods my nostrils. As always, I feel my heart rate calm back down, and when I open my eyes, his are staring at me with such an intensity that I want to explode.

But I don't.

Instead we get out of the car, and my hand finds his again as we meander towards the school. One more kiss, before we part ways until the end of the day. When Cedric asks me about hanging out with him after dinner tonight, I can barely refrain from leaping up and down with joy. There's nothing like wanting someone, and knowing that person wants you in return. Even after five months I never get tired of being wanted by him. I never will either.

And it may sound like something a stalker would say, but I guess love has that effect on people, because I could bask in the light of Cedric's smile and be content for the rest of my life. I have never felt this way before, and while some say that it's just an infatuated phase; I know our love is real. Fuck everyone else. Nothing exists but us.

We haven't really talked about it, but I know that Cedric is trying to go the Accademia dell'Arte in Italy. Even with the foreboding distance that is going to be separating us soon, I have no doubt we will sustain this…magical…thing we have between us. Really, I can't imagine another pair of people feeling anything akin to what we do for one another.

"I'll see you after the meeting. We have an extra hour of rehearsal since Neville can't fucking seem to remember his lines, so hopefully it'll be close to the time your meeting is over."

"Sounds good. Now kiss me," I demand childishly. There is a brief chuckle before I feel lips upon mine, and my inner brat is soothed.

"You're so spoiled."

"And it's your entire fault. Now another." I pucker up my face again in an almost comedic fashion. More laughter and then…

The bell rings. Time for class.

X

Yay! Ok, the first chapter was just to give lil info about Harry, and to also introduce you all to the deep feelings Harry has for Cedric. And yes, it IS important because Cedric is going to play a monumental role in kicking of the conflict in the story. So pay attention to him

I plan on this fic being long…maybe even two parts. I'm not to sure though since I haven't seen the whole thing completed in my head.

Hopefully there weren't toooooo many typos. I really don't understand this whole…beta so I've just been attempting to catch all my mistakes and fix themselves.

As always, let me know what you think! Any questions, comments, ideas, or just wanna laugh it up…drop me a review and I'll do my best to respond to them in each chapter. I love when other writers do that ^_^!

Nighty night,

-Peacock


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimers**: Harry Potter isn't mine *flings self off cliff*

**Pairings**: Cedric Diggory/Harry Potter, eventual (maybe ^_^) Tom Riddle/Harry Potter

**Warnings**: Adult themes, violence, language, and slashly goodness.

**Summary**: AU/No-Magic/Werewolf/Slash TR/HP Everything was going great. I've got a great family, my boyfriend and I are in love, and I've been accepted to my dream college. Then all of a sudden some guy barges into my life, setting flame to everything I thought I knew.

X

**Chapter 2**_**: **__In Which, Too Many Unexpected Events Happen in the Course of Just One Night_

I hate when plans don't go as…well planned. It seems like such a wasted effort, and let's be straight; I'm normally a great planner. Take tonight for example. I had _planned_ on graduation being a wondrous event. The whole Weasley clan was coming to celebrate. Mrs. Weasley had been in the kitchen all day, whipping up the family's favorite, only taking a break to watch the ceremony. Dinner was going to be smashing affair, complete with family and friends, and all that jazz. Even Cedric was allowed to skip on him family and come join in on the festivities. Afterwards, it was decided we (Ron, Hermione, Cedric, and I) would go out and meet some of our friends at the Shrieking Shack. I'm sure you don't know what that is so I'll inform you.

The Shrieking Shack is only_ the_ most amazing club on this side of the hemisphere. It used to be this old abandoned warehouse that was supposedly haunted. I remember when I was little my Aunt used to tell me about it in hopes of scaring me into submission. Didn't work out so well though because after a while the idea of being devoured by some rabid monster seemed ok in comparison to my previous living agreement. But anyways, folklore says that a werewolf used to live there. Supposedly, he would lure people inside the shack by turning into a beautiful human, ensnaring them by his looks before turning into this beast of a creature and devouring them, and nothing but the victims horrible shrieking remained. Good story, huh?

Well it isn't haunted, but the story provided a good gimmick, and these two guys named Sirius Black and Remus Lupin tricked it out into the coolest club imaginable; complete with the werewolf theme and everything.

So everyone is having a great time at the club. We're all drinking, and dancing, and laughing, and you know…just enjoying each other. But I had to fuck everything up and forget the most important thing about going out.

I am the biggest lightweight…ever.

I mean one shot of the clear stuff, and I'm seeing stars. Last year at Ron's eighteenth birthday party, we learned the hard way to not even let me _look_ at dark liquor. But I was you know, caught up in the moment! Yea, that's the excuse I'm sticking too. And everyone was having such a great time, and normally I don't need anything to get me in the mood for dancing, but tonight was supposed to be so much more than just celebrating our graduation so I needed a little boost.

You see, May is Cedric and I's ninth month anniversary, and we only have about three more months together before he leaves for Italy. It just seemed like the right time, and so after we all left the club, I was going to spend the night with Cedric…and have sex. For the first time.

Just to clarify; I'm defiantly still a virgin. Haven't don't anything more than kiss and grope through clothes. But I feel like I'm ready. And Cedric is the right person that I want share my first time with. I've been doing a lot of reading, and watching so much porn that I'm afraid I've developed an addiction to it, just for the occasion. Just for tonight. But like I said; I'm a lightweight. So instead of having a blast with my friends and thinking about my impending defloweration, (yes, I just made that word up) I'm standing outside in the frigidly cold air, leaned up against the wall and trying not to puke my guts out.

Curses all the way to hell. My head feels like it's splitting in half and my stomach is so twisted, that I just want to force myself to throw up in hopes of elevating some of the discomfort. Closing my eyes makes me feel like I'm about to have a panic attack, so instead I'm forced to watch the world teeter back and forth in slow motion. I need to lie down. Now. The car isn't far away, and with the promise of something soft to lay my aching body down on, I head towards the unlit parking lot.

My brain just isn't working today, and as I stumble through the moving parking lot, I can't help but feel that this is a very bad idea. The lot didn't seem as dark when I was standing by the harsh fluorescent lights of the club's sign, but now I can't even see my hand in front of my face, and I definitely didn't see empty beer bottle in my way before I tripped on it and fell crashing to the ground.

How pathetic. A graceful and smooth dancer, stumbling around like a drunkard in a parking lot, and tripping over empty bottles of booze. The urge to just lay here in my shame and hope that Cedric will come and rescue me is very tempting. So tempting in fact that my eyes start to slid close and the world goes momentarily blank. My mind is wild and lucid thanks to my uncontrolled alcohol consumption, and I imagine I hear a deep almost rumbling chuckle. Wait…crap, someone really _is_ laughing at me.

Normally I would be pissed off, and give whoever it is a good piece of my mind. But my body feels numb, and I'm so tired, that I just continue to lay there. Whoever it is will hopefully just leave me be-

"My my my, whatever have you gotten yourself into." I can't see anything, but suddenly I can…feel a presence of someone in front of me. Blearily, I make out the silhouette of a person crouched in front of me, and cringe at the unexpected feel of hands running through my hair. For the first time, real concern and worry blooms in my chest. How the hell did I not hear someone walk right up in front of me!

My words are slurred, making no sense even to myself as I try to speak my protest at being touched by this stranger. He only chuckles again and continues manhandling my hair until the next thing I know…I'm floating in the air.

Well, not really the air. But off the ground, and suspended in the stranger's arms. One hand supports my waist as my legs dangle like dead weight almost a foot off the ground. This is uncomfortable so to elevate some of the discomfort my legs twine themselves around a strong and muscular waist. His other is now playing with the fringe at my neckline. The sensation is oddly pleasing, tingling in a way that makes me feel even woozier then the liquor in my system. The cold night is suddenly blisteringly hot and stiflingly. My breath is now coming in nothing more than shallow pants and I give in to the urge of resting my head on the shoulder in front of me.

What's wrong with me? Something is very out of place here, and it's more than just me being wasted. It feels like something is sitting on my chest, something heavy and…alive. I've never felt like this before and while I know I should be afraid of it, I can't help but be curious. I want to know what _that_ is. I need to know, because it has to be what's keeping me calm when I should be screaming my head off. And it has to be what's making me feel safe and content in the arms of a stranger who's strong enough to probably murder me with his bare hands. I accidently let out my groan of frustration. He answers with a noise of his own, something like a growl (but people don't growl…right) that rumbles in his chest and tickles mine. I squirm a bit at the feeling, causing the hand that is supporting my back to descend, cupping my bottom and holding me in place. I stop fidgeting, somehow on a subconscious level knowing that's what he wants.

"I suppose I should be angry with you. Not only have you hidden yourself from me, but you've allowed yourself to become…attached to that mutt." I briefly find the time wonder how he knows about Cedric, and why in god's name would he call him a mutt. But I remain silent as he goes on, my curiosity holding my tongue until I get some answers. "His scent is all over you skin," his voice is low and dangerous, and the hands holding me tighten possessively. I feel a mild sense of self-disappointment that I have angered him. Why? I haven't the foggiest idea.

Without thinking, as if on some inner instinct I never knew I possessed, I lean closer and rub my cheek against his. Somehow I _know, _just know, that this will please him.There is stubble and the faint roughness on my smooth skin is electrifying. I know it's crazy, but my whole body feels extra sensitive…like I'm hyperaware, or something else that sounds like it should be on an episode of X-Men. Whatever it is, it's pulling me closer, dangerously closer, and closer still to this man cradling me that I have never met. I don't even know his name, or what he really looks like since it's so dark.

Another growl, a shift of weight, and the next thing I know I'm sandwiched in-between a very hard body and someone's car. My spine is digging into the side of the car but all I can think about is how nice this feeling of immobility is. Which is weird because after living with my Aunt and Uncle for the first part of my life, I have a natural born fear of not being able to escape. But here…like this…I feel safe.

There is a hardness resting against my rear that was not there before and I can't help but move against it as much as I can within my limited range of movement. Those little tingles are back and in full throttle making me move in a more frantic pace, questing for the friction of him against my own rising length. Majestically, he answers my unspoken plea, moving his hips against mine in way that makes me almost delirious and I am unashamed of the moans and mewls that spill from my mouth.

Suddenly, a hard mouth complimented by soft lips, finds their way to my mine. The kiss is hard and demanding; completely unlike the kisses I am used to, but I don't mind. I couldn't mind, when they feel so good, and so _right._ I find myself allowing him to control the kiss and when I feel a sharp prick against my bottom lip, I allow him to plunder the insides of my mouth too.

Our tongues dance together, his taking the lead, suckling on mine like a friend asking for the other to come out and play. Oh man, do I want to play. Play and play, and play, never stopping until I make this burning in the pit of my stomach dissipate.

He growls out harshly, pulling his mouth away from mine. I let out a drunken whine, something akin to a child not getting their way. Even though I can't see him clearly, I feel his eyes boring holes into my face, as if he's branding them with the way I look. His hips stop moving and pull away from mine. The loss of contact has an instant effect on me. The roaring lava feeling in my tummy is suddenly unbearable, and I growl at him. Yes I just said it…_growled_ at him. I didn't even know I could make a noise like that! But here I am making it…at him!

The body pressed taught against mine tenses at the wordless challenge I have unknowingly just issued. His retribution, my punishment is swift as he growls even louder before descending on my lip, biting it quickly and making it bleed.

My courage is suddenly lost as the pain blooms and the metallic coppery taste of blood fills my mouth. It hurts, jolting me out of my drunken and sending me back into reality. What am I doing? Here, like this, with a man I do not even know. And worse yet, what about…

"Cedric."

X

This human boy has preoccupied my mind for too long. And yet…here I am, trailing after, unbeknownst to him or his companion. Had I been another person, I would probably be ashamed to know that after three weeks my presence is so uninspiring that I haven't been noticed yet. But I don't want to be noticed, so I will overlook and forgive the boy for his unobservant eyes. He knows no better; why would he? A good hunter fools his prey until the very last. Regardless of his intentions to hide from me, he has been found, and I plan on taking back what is rightfully mine.

He gives in easily to my ministrations; to easily. This wanton behavior is excusable and it's only the smell of him that lets me know he still remains untouched. With ever second that passes and his skin remains on mine, I purge the smell of his companion from his porcelain flesh. Soon, his mark will be nothing more than memory, replaced instead by the rightful claim; mine, and I'll take great pleasure in seeing the boys face when he realizes the grave error he made.

I realize there is much I will have to teach this boy. He knows nothing of what he truly is due in part to the Muggle family that raised him. But ignorance will not protect or excuse him. A part of me hopes he is a fast learner. The other more… sadistic part of my nature desires instead for the opportunity to desecrate and break him. So when he murmurs the other's name, instead of being consumed by rage I find myself getting excited. Looks like I have a little puppy here bold enough to play my twisted games.

The pale column of his neck is arched and enticing, just begging to have teeth sunken therein. With those poisonous green eyes of his, I can't help but imagine that red is his color. I want to see him soaked in it. But not right now, time is of the essence. I'll be gentle… this time.

As he squirms in my arms I relax my stance. Let him think he's going to get away; it only makes the surprise so much more intoxicating. No longer being supported by me, he sways unsteadily on his feet, muttering nonsense about 'wrong', and 'cant', and 'no.' These words mean even less to me than the weak hands that push against my chest in the vain pursuit of unblocking his escape route. When I back away slightly he turns walking towards the opposite end of the parking lot. I only allow him a few steps before swiftly grabbing his upper arm and jerking him back in front of me. But this time, I turn him around before splaying him face down on the trunk of the car. Again, he struggles, but it only serves to excite me. Wanting him to fully grasp the situation he's in, I press myself snugly against his arse. That is all it takes for the message to sink in, and he stops moving. The night air is filled with the smell of fear with a hint of arousal, and I realize I'm looking forward to playing with my new toy more than I imagined.

"If you say that boy's name ever again in my presence…" I trail off, allowing my promise to trickle into his mind. He tenses (if possible) even more at the feel of my breath on his ear and the shiver that runs through his body (either fear of pleasure, I don't know or care) when I bite his earlobe, suckling the skin into my mouth, is delicious. But this won't work if he remains scared the whole time. No, it's his giving in that will ultimately give me the real victory I require.

Gently I let go of his arm which I have undoubtedly just bruised, and softly caress the side of his face. Moving from his ear slowly down the side of his neck I lick the column of his neck before latching on, nibbling the skin softly. He elicits even more of those sounds that I like, and I can't help but smirk into his neck. He begins moving against me of his own volition, bumping his rear against my front. I'm sure he has no idea what it is his body is asking for; but his ignorance only makes it better…for me.

Keeping him distracted with the attention I continue to bestow on his neck, I reach my free hand around cupping the unmistakable bulge I find. Startled, he gives a keening cry of his wanton passion as I begin to manhandle him through his jeans. Inevitably he begins rocking against my hand in his own motion, now actively seeking my touch.

"Mmnn, ahaha…aaaahhh…!"

He speaks, and it would be rude to ignore. Releasing his neck briefly I travel upwards, back to his ear. Nibbling on it yet again, I begin to tell him of all the things I will do to him. All of the horrible, and debauched, and glorious things that I will show him. All of the things his closed little mind could not possibly even dream of. His response is intense; his yells louder, his movements jerkier. My new toy is almost there. Who would have thought such a slight and sensible creature would be turned on by a little dirty talk?

No preamble necessary as I wrench down his pants with skilled fingers before wrapping them around his hot flesh, and begin stroking him roughly while rubbing my thumb over his leaking slit. No one has ever touched him like this, I am certain. His reaction is so intense that he could be nothing but an amateur, familiar only with his own hand. Another shudder. Another yell; louder than the previous. His voice will be hoarse tomorrow, but I want to hear him _scream_ now.

So I bite him. In the crook of his shoulder, I latch on tightly with newly extended fangs that are known for shredding skin and piercing bones. Ahh yes…that's the scream I was looking for. That blood churning sound that raises the hair on a person's neck, and rings in your ears long after the sound has been erased by the wind.

In the midst of his scream he finds his release, coating my hand and spraying the car simultaneously in the white shimmering substance. The idea that my bite might have helped push him over the edge is something I will have to look into. After all, I'm a sadist by nature, so the boy had better get used to pain. He'll be becoming intimately acquainted with it soon enough.

Without the sensitive ears, I would probably still be able to hear his heartbeat. It thumps loudly at an alarming pace, almost like a rabbit's, or like any good prey that knows when it has been captured by the predator. The coiling tension in his body evaporates and he slumps against the car. I back away, giving him room to move, and find myself only mildly surprised when he falls to gravel. Really? He fell unconscious? The humor of the situation makes me laugh. A real laugh; the kind I haven't partaken of in a long time.

And as I walk away, I can't help but look back at my boy. Unconscious, pants pooled down to ankles, and a bloody shoulder; he is a sight to behold. The reaction he will garner from his friends and…boyfriend when he is found in this state is something I would undoubtedly take immense pleasure in witnessing. But my time has expired, and for now all that remains is for time to run its course.

This is going to be more fun than I anticipated.

X

To: **redbull07…**omg don't worry about it lol. I adore you! Your comments are so inspiring and nice *blushes* But don't worry; this is not going to be a Cedric/Harry story. I'm not sure _who _exactly is going to be Harry's love interest, but it won't be Cedric. I just wanted Harry to have known what love feels like, before he gets set up. It's more realistic to me because by the end of high school, most people have met that one person they truly believe they're in love with. And I hate the idea of Harry just…falling into Tom. Without the conflict that Cedric produces; the story would be sooooo bland. Like unseasoned ramen noodles hahahahah ^_^.

Nighty Night,

-Peacock


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimers**: Harry Potter isn't mine *flings self off cliff*

**Pairings**: Cedric Diggory/Harry Potter, eventual (maybe ^_^) Tom Riddle/Harry Potter

**Warnings**: Adult themes, violence, language, and slashly goodness.

**Summary**: AU/No-Magic/Werewolf/Slash TR/HP Everything was going great. I've got a great family, my boyfriend and I are in love, and I've been accepted to my dream college. Then all of a sudden some guy barges into my life, setting flame to everything I thought I knew.

X

**Chapter 3: **_In Which, Revelations are Revealed..._

I wish the ground would just swallow me alive. Just…pull me into the earth and trap me in-between the many layers of dirt underneath my feet. Or maybe fading out of existence would be nice. It defiantly sounds pleasant enough. Either way, I don't really care. As long as my extinction is quick because I can't live like this anymore.

It's been a week since I was…raped? Molested? Assaulted? Those are the three favorite terms that everyone has been using to describe what happened. Or at least what they think happened to me that night. I don't remember. Anything. One minute I'm having the time of my life clubbing with my friends and boyfriend. Next, I'm waking up in a stale hospital bed and listening to some random doctor as he tells me that I was '_maybe'_ raped. Maybe? Really? I thought doctors were supposed to be specific with their shit. Supposedly it has to do with the fact that I wasn't…penetrated or anything like that. The only physical sign of abuse on me is this bite mark on my collarbone.

I can't help but shudder every time I think about that little fact. Everyone else seems to be really worried and upset that I was found half naked and unconscious outside a club. I feel fine. I don't feel like I was raped, or abused or anything else that should be the theme of some sad Yank country song. But the idea that someone bit me…like a cannibal, weird's the hell out of me. Other than that though, I'm fine. Really. But everyone else has been treating me like a porcelain doll, and it's really starting to aggravate me.

Mrs. Weasley (bless her heart) can't look at me without either crying, or clutching me to her bosom in suffocating hug. Sometimes it's a combination of both. Hermione keeps finding roundabout ways to get me to talk with a counselor or therapist. Yea, it was really awkward when I opened my notebook in class to see a brochure about sexual violence victims. Even Ron, whom I can normally depend on to be the real 'man' in our friendship, has been acting weird. Won't let me out of his sight to even use the loo! It's crazy I tell you. Utter madness. And to top it all off, I haven't seen or even heard from Cedric since the night of the club.

Apparently when my friends found me outside the club later that night, Cedric took it really bad. I mean, it's to be expected. Your boyfriend is found pants down, bloody shoulder, and unconscious; taking it bad is what a good boyfriend is _supposed_ to do. But after taking me to hospital, he left. And he hasn't been to class, stopped by the bakery, or even called me since I woke up. He's not even picking up my phone calls. His parent's won't say anything either.

I don't know what to do.

I mean yea, ok so I don't personally feel like what happened was such a big deal. But if everyone else does, then doesn't that mean that he should be here for me? I know it does, because I keep expecting him to call, or just show up at the bakery. But every time I look at my phone…it isn't him. And every time the door bell chimes at Slice of Heaven…it isn't him that enters.

I don't know what to do. All I know is that this really, really hurts.

Hurts more than my newly healed bite mark, or the beatings Vernon used to give me. To be honest, I never knew that something…anything could hurt this much. It feels like I can't breathe properly. My chest hurts like I've been punched…but it hurts on the inside. I keep looking at my torso every time I go to the bathroom, expecting for there to be some gigantic bruise; evidence of the pain that I'm feeling. But there isn't. Maybe this is what they call, heartbreak. It has to be. There simply couldn't be a more logical explanation for why I'm sitting on a park bench at almost two in morning and crying my eyes out.

I miss Ced so much. Besides getting drunk, masturbating out in public, (that's what I've been telling myself happened) and getting bit by some weird person; I didn't really do anything wrong. Right? Maybe I did, and I'm just missing the signs. Maybe that's why he's mad with me. But he should know by now that there's nothing I wouldn't do for him. All he has to do is tell me how to fix this, how to make things right again and I'll do it. No questions asked.

Because I love Cedric. He is my everything. And people can keep right on talking their shit about teenagers not knowing what real love is; but I know the truth. This _is_ love. And every fiber of my being, down the smallest atom of which I am composed, was designed specifically _for_ him.

I know this. He knows this.

So where is he?

_That_ is the question that I _don't_ know. And my lack of response to a query that was once upon a time, so easy to answer, sends me into another fit of tears. My tear ducts are going to be nonexistent in a couple more days if something doesn't happen.

X

The night air is warm, and with the soft breeze dancing around I can smell his tears; salty and tangy, with a hint of melancholy that lingers if you breathe in deeply. I know that I am responsible for those tears, and it takes all of my willpower to not come from my hiding place and comfort him. Oh Harry, you of all people shouldn't cry anymore. And I promise that if you will just wait…just bare this pain for a little while longer, everything will turn fine.

I hope. I pray. It's really all I can do for now, because although I am passionate about saving Harry, I am not a fool who would disregard the severity of the situation. And the situation is very, very serve, because by some twisted turn of events, the man I love…_my_ Harry, has been claimed by Tom Riddle.

Harry of course wouldn't know the significance of that name. Why would he; he isn't a wulf like I am and therefore kept apart from our world like all the other humanes. Or at least he was…until I pursued him, started dating him, and fell in love with him. I had thought that by being careful, and not divulging anything about my nature, about being wulf, would be enough to keep him safe. And I've done my job right. Even after all these months, he still has no idea of what I _truly_ am. But I can't help but feel that this is somehow my fault. Was I not cautious enough? Perhaps Harry really did know about me, but just played dumb? No, that's impossible. Who am I kidding…Harry couldn't lie save his life. Either way at this point I doubt it even really matters. All that matters now is the safety of Harry.

But…how to keep someone safe from the Vargulf?

My parents want me to just give up on Harry. Leave him to whatever the Fates have deemed will be his destiny. To be honest if he wasn't the love of my life; I probably would. But Harry is _mine._ Perhaps not in the true mate sense, but it's still more than enough. I will never want anyone besides him ever again. And I will do whatever it means to keep him safe and happy.

I just hope it's enough.

With my mind made up, I know there is no more time to waste. This week I've been making the preparations for our escape. There's enough money in my trust fund to last for a couple of months if we use it sparingly. The best thing to do is leave Europe altogether. This whole side of the globe is pretty much the territory of Tom Riddle. We wouldn't have a chance in hell of hiding unless we leave. America is the safest place due to their lack of structure. No one will question a lone wulf with a humane there.

I've already made the flight arrangements. Leaving from the London Airport would be too obvious incase Harry is being tracked. Instead we're going to drive to Manchester and fly from there. The plane leaves tomorrow afternoon.

This is going to be the turning point for both of our lives. I know Harry loves and trusts me, but he wouldn't runaway with me, leave his family and school behind without a good reason. I'll have to tell him. Everything. Here goes nothing.

Carefully, I emerge from my hiding place, making sure to check the air for any abnormal scents. The air tastes calm and serene. Nobody here but us.

"Harry," I whisper softly. His head jerks up at the sound of my voice, as faint as it is. A second for his eyes as they adjust to the darkness, and the next moment I find a bundle of him smashed against my chest. He's crying again. All his anguish making its presence known by the loud wails that leave his mouth, and the hot tears that dampen my shirt.

I feel like more of a monster, knowing that I am the cause of his pain. But I just keep telling myself that my absence for this past week has been a necessity to keep him safe. He will understand, and he will forgive. But for now, I won't begrudge him his catharsis. He deserves this.

Wrapping my arms around him and pulling him into my chest even more, I let him sob while I murmur softly into his ear and rub his back. This always helps him calm down before a recital. Here's hoping it'll work now.

Thankfully it does, and when his crying finally subsides into little hiccupped coughs, I know it's now or nothing. Gently I cup his face, bring it out of my now wet chest and up until I can see his face. Those green eyes I love so much are breaking me down. I've never wanted such a pained look to be directed at me like that. Not from him. Rubbing soothing circles into his cheeks with my thumb pads, I bring my nose close to his, rubbing them together. I feel his breath against my face as he sighs and his wet eyes close.

"Harry…I'm so sorry." He whimpers pitifully in reply and my heart aches. "I never should have left you alone like that. I'm sorry, for not calling, or answering or checking up on you. But please, you have to believe that it was for your own good." The desperation is my voice must be convincing enough because he's looking at me with curiosity instead of the distrust that I rightly deserve. I have his full attention now, and time is of the essence.

"Harry, do you trust me?" I'm only mildly surprised (given the circumstances for which this question is even brought up) that he nods his head without hesitation. For the first time in a week, my heart feels light. Only he is capable of making me feel that way.

"Good. Now I need you to listen, and not interrupt. I know you don't remember anything that happened that night. But I've been able to piece together some things and Harry…you're in danger. I've been away for this past week getting things together so that I can take you away somewhere. Somewhere safe. We don't have much time right now, but I need you to just trust." There's confusion in his viridian green eyes, but I'm thankful for the self control he displays by not asking a needless amount of questions. Harry is known for his driving curiosity, and something that should only take five minutes to explain, can take as much as two hours.

"I need you to go back home. Tell the Weasley's that you and I made up, and that I'm taking you on a trip to Italy for the summer. Make sure you stress to them that you'll be gone from the entire summer. Also, let them know that were going is somewhat remote-a romantic getaway place, so it doesn't have the best service. They shouldn't worry about not being able to get in contact with you, and that you'll try to talk to them whenever the opportunity arrives. Good so far?" A reassuring nod and I continue.

"All of this needs to happen tonight. As soon as you leave the Weasley's go home and pack a bag. Bring only what's necessary; no more than two bags. Be ready by 7. I'm going to pick you up then and we're going to head to the airport-"

"What's all this about then?" he finally interrupts. I suppose I should be thankful that he has lasted this long. "Why do you think I'm…in trouble? Did I do something wrong? Who's mad at me? And, what does it have to do with you? Cedric I-"

"Harry! I don't have time to explain right now." Oh good, not the puppy eyes. He knows I can't fight against that. I sigh before giving a rushed explanation. Hopefully it'll suffice until I have time to properly explain everything. "Just…just know that Harry, there are things that you don't know about. Things that you'd only ever believe where fantasy. But, they exist. They are real, and…I'm a part of that world. And last week…at the Shrieking Shack…someone else wants to bring you into that world too-"

"What world! What on earth are you talking about Ced, 'cause you're not making any bloody sense!" And now he's frustrated. Great; now we're going to be here all night. I really didn't want my 'coming out' to be in a dreary little park in the middle of the night, but it looks like I have little to no choice.

"For goodness sake Harry! Fine, if you want to know so badly, I'll oblige. I'm a-"

"I wouldn't tell him that if I were you. You've already signed your death warrant; no need to drag it out by breaking anymore of the rules. Then again I guess it really doesn't matter. The Vargulf was probably going to torture you first anyway." How could I have been so unobservant? Pushing Harry behind, I look into the dark focusing on the haughty voice. Three figures slowly emerge from the trees; all wulfs.

The platinum blonde that spoke is the most recognizable. Draco Malfoy. Offspring of the Vargulf's Hand, Lucius Malfoy. His father plays a very prominent role in rule of the Vargulf, which therefore makes Draco of secondhand important as well. The others are probably just flunkies, used to handle the aristocrat's dirty work. In this case, it would appear_ I _am the 'dirty work' that needs handling.

"Look, it's late. And I'd much rather be somewhere else then playing babysitter. He doesn't belong to you anymore, so make my job easier and hand him over. Maybe…I'll even put in a nice word with the Vargulf if you cooperate, and instead of dragging out your pitiful existence, he'll snuff you out quickly. No pain."

I feel Harry stiffen behind me at the death threats; taste his nervousness and anxiety on my tongue. It makes me sick to my stomach. Had this been a fair fight, Malfoy wouldn't have stood a chance. But with his goons ready to pounce; there's no way I'm coming out alive. But at least Harry can get away. If time is all I can give him, then he has it.

Crouching down, I give the haughty blonde my answer. His mocking laugh rips through the night, and the two men by his side get ready, mimicking my own stance. Instantly the air turns thick and warm, a startling contrast to the just before cold and windy night. Harry is muttering in background, but I have to tune him out. My focus; the two writhing boys under going their Change.

"Harry, when I move, run." I can spare him no further explanation, as the Change hits me too. As always, the shifting of bones and reforming of new joints is an uncomfortable experience. Almost like a pressure that just keeps building, and building, and building… until something breaks. When the tension dissipates it's almost refreshing; like working out until your sore, and then stretching your muscles afterwards. It feels good, liberating, and free. But it's not just the outside that changes. No, the inside is just as important.

As the body changes, so does the mind. A merging of natural animal instincts with the sense and intellect that comes from the humane essence of our soul, combine to make a potent combination; the ability to think, and the strength to do.

Descending from our great ancestor Vánagandr, son of Loki; my race is an old one. Our time began during the rule of the Vikings, when battle, blood lust, and power where the only things that mattered. We have not changed much since then. Our ways are still as barbaric as they were all those centuries ago. I call on that driving force as I charge the now Changed wulfs. Harry's wails and cries are drowned out by the sound of air rushing past my hypersensitive ears; the beast I have let free is unwilling to allow anything the opportunity to distract me from my hunt…my kill.

The two muddy brown masses and I collide. I can't help but imagine the sight we must make. We are bigger than our cousins the wolf. And although you would think size wouldn't be enough to distinguish between creatures, not even a blind person would be able to mistake us. Along with our sheer overwhelming size that dwarfs the common wolf, our muzzles are longer; shaper and with a wider jaw. Altogether, I suppose we just look more…fearsome then our cousins.

What feels like forever is really nothing more than several minutes. In the heat of battle it's like the whole world slows down. Till this point, the fight (although with two pitted against one) was evenly matched. But on misplaced paw and my leg is broken underneath the crushing jaws of my opponent. I fall to the ground, and I feel them enclosing around me, ready to deliver final strike. I close my eyes, waiting for the inevitable. I will have died in battle, protecting that which was important to me. My soul will find solace in the Next World. Harry, I-

"STOP!" A voice; Harry's voice rings out into the night, halting everything around it. The command is strong and firm. I've never known him to sound so authoritative before. But I know why. It's because he _really_ is the Vargulf's mate, and I am to obey.

Twisting around, I see him still standing at the clearing. I shouldn't be surprised that he didn't flee like I told him to. He never listens, may harry. But what does shock me is the pen in his hand, poised to strike his very own throat.

"Let him go. I'm guessing you need me for something. And, going out on a limb here…I'm guessing your _Vargulf_, or whoever the bloody hell he is, won't be too happy if all you have to bring back is my dead body." His intentions are clear as he brings the pen that much closer to the hollow of his throat. There is no fear in his eyes, only determination. "Plain and simple; he dies…I die."

The park is still deathly quiet; as if any noise will break the spell Harry has weaved, killing everything in the process. Even the once snarling mounds of fur and fat keep still. Malfoy is the first to test the tremulous waters, breaking that silence with a nervous chuckle that fails at intimidating Harry as I'm sure he wanted.

"You aren't that important. And you pet here," he gestures towards me, "is going to die one way or the other. Rather you let them do it…or else his suffering will never end. Not even a prayer for death will grant him an escape, if the Vargulf gets his hands on him-"

"Don't worry about that. I'll take care of it." I can't but give a snarling grin. It's apparent by the look on the blonde's face that he isn't used to be being cut off. Especially by someone as insignificant as a humane. I suppose you see something new every day.

He recovers quickly, fully comprehending the realness of the situation, and not liking that the tables have been turned.

"Good. Nice to know there's more to you than your overbearing ego. Now call your mutts, off mine." Taking control of the situation, and still finding the perfect time to toss in some sarcasm. That's my Harry.

"Yes Draco, I do believe it best if you give into his demands." Unlike Draco's this new more sinister voice, does not seem at all troubled by the situation he has just walked in on. Instead, he circles us, but not really looking at us. As if we are no more than the dirt underneath our paws. His eyes are trained on Harry.

The Vargulf has arrived.

X

Cliff hanger :} hahah Im so evil!

I had planned on giving some background info for the terms that I chose to use, but I'm in a bit of a rush, so expect that next chapter.

Review, let me know what you guys think. The good, bad, ugly, sexy…yaaddda yaaadddaa. I wanna hear it all!

Thanks

-peacock


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimers**: Harry Potter isn't mine *flings self off cliff*

**Pairings**: Cedric Diggory/Harry Potter, eventual (maybe ^_^) Tom Riddle/Harry Potter

**Warnings**: Adult themes, violence, language, and slashly goodness.

**Summary**: AU/No-Magic/Werewolf/Slash TR/HP Everything was going great. I've got a great family, my boyfriend and I are in love, and I've been accepted to my dream college. Then all of a sudden some guy barges into my life, setting flame to everything I thought I knew.

X

**Chapter 4:** _In Which, Shit Hits the Fan_

Undoubtedly, this is the man Cedric was talking about. The Vargulf.

The air is too thick, I feel like I'm choking. It's like someone is trying to force a wad of cotton down my throat. It takes up entirely too much space; blocking my airways. I need to breathe, and these shallow pants that I'm reduced to aren't giving me the amount of oxygen I need to sustain life. I wonder if his presence is only affecting me like that…or does everyone else feel it too?

I fight against the strong compulsion that forces me to keep my eyes trained on the man walking towards me. The adrenaline that was just previously coursing through me seems to have frozen in my veins upon his entrance into the park. I try to focus on menial things, that will keep me grounded, but it seems impossible. _He _has my full attention. The only other thing my mind can comprehend is the loud thud of my heart resounding in my ears. It's deafening. Does he hear it too? I imagine he can't, but some part of me knows better.

_Nothing _escapes his detection. Not my obnoxiously loud heart, not my quiet gasps for breath. Not the warmth he draws from within me that travels up body and spreads across my face in blush. Nothing. I don't like that. And I let him know by narrowing my eyes at him as he reaches his destination and stands directly in front of me. Why is he so close? No doubt an attempt to break my resolve and force me back. But I won't back down. Not from him, or anybody else.

My nose is practically touching his chest. I can breathe again. And it's only because of him that this is possible. A part of me is thankful.

The other part…not so thankful.

My senses are instantly enveloped by the natural smell that is him. It's a heady scent that makes my mind dizzy while the heat in my face blooms like a virgin on her wedding night. He smells like juniper… wild juniper that's fresh, cool, and minty.

I don't realize my eyes have closed until he chuckles, and the spell over me, brought upon by the close proximity of his presence, is broken. I'm back to glaring, but it seems most ineffective now that I have to look up him. He towers over me. Even more than Cedric who's around 5'11. If I could hazard a guess, I'd wager this guy to be around 6'2. I hate people that make me fell puny. Then again, this man probably makes even the highest mountain feel puny. It's just…him, and the naturally domineering and dominating presence he possess. I hate people like that too.

There's no mistaking the blatantly obvious; he's in charge. He knows it, everyone else knows it, and he expects everyone to act accordingly. Out of my peripheral I see the blonde on one knee, bowed down. The… big dogs…creatures…wolfs, are pressed low to the ground. Their eyes are downcast too. Is it like…a mortal sin to even look at this guy? Well I don't give a bloody rat's arse; I'll continue to stare him down until…well I'm not exactly sure about that part yet.

Quiet suddenly, I feel a warm hand grip mine. I don't know why, but I figured he wouldn't touch me; as if I were a leper or something. I'm beginning to really not like that he keeps proving me wrong. There's no point in resisting as he pulls my hand that is still clasping the pen, down, away from my vulnerable neck.

"There, there now. No need for the dramatics," he murmurs in a soft voice, his hand still gripping mine. "It's a beautiful night…no need for bloodshed." Something about the way he says that lets me know that for him, _every_ night needs some bloodshed. The fear and disgust that should accompany this last thought surprises me by _not_ manifesting. Instead, I can only think about the way his had feels around mine. Oh great; my common sense has left the building.

"I'm not being dramatic." My voice comes out low, but steady. Go me. "Let Cedric go. You don't need him…you need me."

That damn smug look is back across his face. "Well aren't you a rather conceited one," he says while bringing up his free hand and caressing my cheek. "I'm afraid you haven't fully grasped the situation you're in. You belong to me." The heat of night is suddenly doused with the ice cold water that is his words. I belong to him?

How the fuck, does another living organism _belong_ to another person? This Vargulf bloke is out his bloody mind. I don't…wont, belong to anyone. My time of being someone else's lapdog was over when I left the Dursleys. And even then they made sure to make me feel like I never belonged to them. Hell, I didn't even belong in their household as far as they were concerned. As always I have trouble reigning in my expressions, and my obvious displeasure at his words makes an appearance on my face. His eyes grow stormy and I'm suddenly very aware of his hand on my cheek. Apparently he isn't accustomed to people not being instantly brainwashed by him.

Against my will I tense up when he leans down toward me. His breath is on my ear, and for some reason there's a sense of déjà vu that accompanies his action. It's hard to focus on the words he's saying when I can feel his lips on the shell of my ear. Gods, I'm blushing again. "We can do this the hard way, or the easy way," he whispers.

What a mood killer. I'm choked up all over again and can't seem to breathe right…again. I really hate that this guy scares me. Truly I do. The last person I was afraid of was my uncle. A lot of time has passed since then and I've grown a lot from the scared and unsure boy I used to be. But this guy brings it all back, front and center.

But I don't want Cedric to be hurt anymore than he already is. And I don't want to go against this man…because he will win. I'm sure of it. Any other person I'd be willing to go head to head, toe to toe with; but not him. There's a reason the blonde, his lapdogs, and my boyfriend are bowing to him like he's some kind of evil war god. Whatever he is, because after tonight I'm pretty sure he's _not_ normal, I'd rather not find out firsthand.

Giving in is surprisingly easy. Maybe it's his hand that is rubbing soothing circles into my cheek with his thumb, or the arm that's now wrapped around my waist, trapping me against his hard body. Not sure, but it's working so I won't question it.

The night's events are taking its toll on me. Maybe shock? Maybe. Either way I'm suddenly really tired and drained. I just want to fall into a coma and sleep for a thousand years. But since that's impossible I settle for leaning against the broad chest in front of me and breathing deeply. Weird, that I should feel warm, safe, and content in the arms of a man who was the cause of my distress in the first place. "Everything will be ok?" I murmur into his shirt. I can't even find the strength to be irritated with myself for the childish way my question sounds.

"I'll take care of everything," he assures me, and my heart swells with trust for this man because somehow I know…just know, that he really will take care of everything. There's nothing for me to worry about anymore. It feels like a great burden has just been lifted off my shoulders, but before I can even thank him, or request that he seal the deal with a pinkie promise, I feel knives pierce my shoulder.

No, not knives; teeth. Just like before at the Shrieking Shack in the parking lot…

It's him.

Suddenly it all comes rushing back to me in a split second; that night. It _was_ him.

And that's the last thing I remember before everything turned black.

X

Sorry for the long not update :/ and for the shortness of this chapter. I promise the next chapter will be up must quicker hahahaah. Review!

Night!

-Peacock


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